Moira scratched her head dubiously.
"With deer and Indians in them."
"I'm afeard of Indians," commented Moira promptly. "I read a terrible story about them once in a book that Father Owen gave me."
"Oh, well, we shan't be very near them if we go!" explained Winifred. "And it would be very fine to see them at a distance."
"I'd rather not see them at all, if it's the same to you, miss," declared the determined Moira.
"The deer, then, and the buffaloes and all the wild animals, and grand cities, with shops full of toys and dresses and beautiful things."
"Oh, it's the cities I'd like to be seein', with shops!" cried Moira. "We'll keep away from the hills and streams, Miss Winifred asthore, havin' them galore in our own country. An' we'll keep away from the forests, for fear it's the wild Indians we'd be comin' across."
Her tone was coaxing, with that wheedling note in it peculiar to her race.
"Oh, it's to the cities I must go!" said Winifred. "But I don't know what a city is like, Moira. I can't make a picture of it to my eye. It is a big place, crowded with people, all hurrying by in a stream; and the shops—"